Designing a room with books is an act of referential art: the mere presence of a book, without need for melodrama or emphasis, asserts the potential that whole, imagined worlds might, at any moment, unfold within a room. An elegantly styled room is perfectly punctuated by the presence of a biography on Frank Lloyd Wright or Cartier, or a tabletop perspective of the interior design of Charleston, Chicago or Jaipur. With that, the accent of books in a room is yet sublime.

But what of the fantastical?

How fitting is it to have a doorway through books — even a doorway made of books — when books open whole new worlds of possibilities?